


Love Me, Hate Me, Kiss Me, Push Me Away

by AnotherWorld3111



Series: Wincest Drabbles [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: A/B/O dynamic, Angst, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Canon Era, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Omega Dean Winchester/Alpha Sam Winchester, Season/Series 09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 13:53:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15390162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherWorld3111/pseuds/AnotherWorld3111
Summary: "Are you okay, Dean?"Did it matter, though?





	Love Me, Hate Me, Kiss Me, Push Me Away

**Author's Note:**

> If there still is any more typos or whatnot, I'm blaming KaenNoMai, who said I could completely and utterly trust her as my beta.  
> I'm also blaming her for somehow subtly manipulating me into writing angst, despite her fervent claims of otherwise.  
> Unfortunately, now onto my next fic -- most likely a prequel to this, that KaenNoMai is glaring down at me to start writing already (not really. She's glaring at her own fic tryna get it to write itself. Except for the fact that she's not cuz she's on tumblr)  
> (Remember when you asked what did i just do cuz i snorted big time? this is what i was doing :D )

  Crowley was blabbering on about something. Dean wasn’t really sure what, and he didn’t care either. He was still thrumming with energy, the blade in his hand practically sending the vibrations up his arm and resonating within the rest of his body.

  His fingers flexed around the blade.

  The sight of the Impala peeking through the trees was still enough to ease the weight in his chest, however, and Dean’s pace steadily picked up, climbing up the hill fast, eager to get to the only place that still seemed to welcome Dean’s presence with open arms.

  And came to an abrupt stop as the sight in front of him registered. He only vaguely noticed how Sam and Crowley started to come to a stop behind him as well, but he was too busy staring at his most beloved possession with disbelieving eyes… unable to comprehend that the last thing that stood by him…

  Was now standing damaged as well.

  Something in him snapped, and barely aware of what he was doing, Dean took a few stumbling steps forward that he needed to come to a halt in front of his car, crouching down as he desperately tried to see if it would scrub off with his wettened thumb… and then frustration raged within him as he realized his car had been keyed. Through the paint, all the way to the metal.

  “No, no! Come on. What the hell?” He couldn’t even bring himself to sound as angry as he really was, because his throat was threatening to break out on him, a sob barely restrained as he let his head hang forward. Dean inhaled deeply, trying to bring himself back under control.

  The blade pulsed in his hand.

  He forced himself to stand up, checking through the rest of the car, his hand vibrating with the urge, the  _ need  _ to--

  “That’s sulfur.” Sam spoke up, and reality crashed around Dean as he was brought back to awareness of his surroundings. “Demons.”

  Dean grit his teeth. “Abaddon’s.” And there was no other question about who it was, not when the only other demon they knew was literally behind the Winchesters. “What about the trunk?” He gestured towards it with his chin.

  The moment he realized Sam gave him the good to go on that one, he was back to focusing on the rest of the car. And namely, how, apparently, it had been keyed on every. Single. Fucking. Side.

  “Demon mitts all over my baby.” Dean muttered, his nostrils flaring as he bounced the blade in his grip, arm aching to drive itself into the first demon that he could find that was even remotely related to this.

  He groaned aloud, throwing his head back, holding back the urge to kick at something like a petulant child. Except much more viciously. And preferably someone’s head, but seeing as the last one wasn’t really available right now. “Oh, come on!! Oh, so now -- what, demons have resorted to keying cars?!

  He could hear Sam asking Crowley something, but he ignored it, too busy focusing on how the blade seemed to be thrumming more ecstatically than normal. Almost as if it was feeling his rage, feeding to it, asking him to let it out, to get revenge--

_ Revenge. _

  Oh yeah, he was definitely going to get revenge on the demons who did this. He was going to slaughter every one of them--

  “Dean. Dean!” 

  He flinched, biting back the urge to snarl at his brother when a hint of alpha command snuck into Sam’s tone. 

  “Listen. You said Crowley was only useful till we got the Blade.” Sam said pointedly. “We got the Blade.”

  Dean stared.

  “Are you even listening to me?” And now it seemed like his alpha was finally paying attention to him, as Sam paused to take a better look at Dean. “Jesus, Dean, do you even remember what we agreed on?”

  And that’s when Dean took a step back, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you.” He muttered, turning around as he started to round the car.

  Ignoring his brother’s protesting yell, demanding for his attention, Dean kept walking, turning to look at Crowley from beside the driver’s door. “You still need a ride?” He raised an eyebrow at the demon, ignoring the pull in his chest that made him feel like his muscles were being torn apart as Sam’s disapproval and fury radiated from over the car’s hood.

  Crowley raised his eyebrows at them, but smirked anyway. “You know what,” and he grinned, shrugging widely. “I think I’m good.”

  And then he disappeared, the bastard leaving Dean alone with his raging alpha.

  Ignoring Sam, Dean walked back to the trunk, opening it to toss the blade in, before just as quickly slamming it closed again. His hand suddenly feeling way too bereft, and his chest left with the sensation of a gaping hole smack in the center of him, Dean got into the car without a word.

  Turning on the engine, he didn’t have to wait for long before Sam was getting into the passenger seat beside Dean, slamming the door behind himself.

  “What the fuck was that?” Sam said, not even bothering with their usual pretence of stewing in uncomfortable silence before eventually cracking open -- but only after a long wait.

  Dean sighed, putting the car in drive. He didn’t even bother looking at Sam, and yet, the stink of alpha rage made him want to curl into a ball at the corner whilst simultaneously begging forgiveness. Swallowing down the urge, Dean continued to keep his eyes straight on the road. 

  “What was what?”

  “That!” And yep, there was the alpha explosion. It was only years of practice that had Dean being able to refrain himself from cowering in the driver’s seat, and yet the omega within him was being torn to shreds at the face of its alpha’s anger. “You and I agreed, Dean! We said we’d kill Crowley -- and you just let him go? What the hell did you do that for?”

  Dean sighed. 

  The Mark on his arm pulsed, and for a moment Dean was distracted as his mind want to the back of his car. He could see the blade, as clear as day in his mind, and it called out to him, was practically singing the siren’s song…

  “Dean!” 

  He snapped. 

  Pulling over to the side, he only spared the barest of seconds to form a mental apology to his baby’s wheels, before he was putting his car in park on the gravel. The car hadn’t even stopped moving, but Dean was already out of the car, this time, slamming his own door as his anger got the best of him. 

  His body was vibrating. Itching. Bouncing with energy.

  He walked forward, keeping his eyes on the distant horizon as he walked to the traffic barrier, and proceeded to nimbly step over it. 

  “Dean!”

  Closing his eyes, Dean crouched, leaning against the traffic barrier, and waited for his brother to catch up, ignoring the hint of alarm in his brother’s scent. Wasn’t like it was meant for him, as much as it probably translated to his brother being concerned over his _ business partner _ .

  Dean mentally snorted at the thought, just as Sam caught up with him, long legs cautiously stepping over the barrier and testing the soft ground before standing at the edge of the cliff beside Dean. But instead of mirroring Dean’s position, Sam turned to the side, his entire body turned towards the omega as he crossed his arms, biceps subconsciously bulging and increasing in size as they flexed, along with the rest of Sam’s body. 

  Normally, the sight would have had Dean leaking like a faulty faucet on ny other given day. Now, the sight was just too damn intimidating, and the Mark throbbed with the need to show who the real fighter was between the two of them--

  Dean blinked, disoriented.

  “Are you gonna tell me what the hell is going on with you, or not?”

  Dean looked away.

  Hearing Sam let out an irritated huff, he tracked his brother from the corner of his eye, watching Sam as he now copied Dean and leaned against the barrier, eyes on the horizon.

  “Are you okay, Dean?”

  And wasn’t that the award-winning question right there.

  “Are you really asking me that, Sam?” Dean let the disbelief color his tone, not even making an attempt to hide it. God knows he was done with it all anyway, tired with how his brother had been treating him, tired with how his alpha  _ wasn’t _ treating him. And yes, he knew he made a damn big mistake, but if this was what the consequences were… then Dean didn’t know why he was still even trying.

  Sam raised a skeptical eyebrow, but his tone remained soft. Cool. Flat. “Yeah, Dean. I really am.” 

  Dean straightened, and with a grit of his teeth, he forced himself to let his scents run free, lifting the deeply ingrained walls that normally masked his scents by sheer will and control.

  Sam’s eyes widened as he was suddenly hit with a blast of anguished omega, his eyes turning red with overprotectiveness. Dean could have scoffed. He wasn’t even sure he could remember the last time Sam’s eyes went red over passion instead of anger.

  But then Sam blinked, visibly controlling himself. “If you’re trying to make me pity you or something--” He started before Dean could speak, but Dean wasn’t willing to bend over that easily. God knows he’d done that enough already, far too many times, and far too literally for his comfort.

  “ _ Make you pity me _ ?” Dean yelled, his fists tightening at his sides. This time, he really did scoff aloud. “That’s rich, Sam. Really. If I wanted your pity, I would have crawled to your room, on my knees,  _ begging you to fuck me through my heat.”  _ He was breathing heavily, Dean’s vision starting to go red with rage that he could barely see Sam anymore through the haze. “Instead? I had to lock myself in my room, take my damn pills, and hope to be able to get through the worst of it, despite my body knowing that I had a mate --  _ that just didn’t want me!” _

  Swallowing, Dean turned around. He took a step. And then, with a roar, he punched the traffic barrier.

  The metal denting was too satisfying for Dean to pay attention to his now burning knuckles. Rather, he had to stop himself from punching it again and again and one more time for good measure, too.

  “Dean--” Sam started, voice a combination of shock, regret, and pain. 

  Dean held up a hand. “You said we’re business partners? Fine. We can’t be brothers? Okay. If we can’t be mates…” Dean swallowed, his throat rapidly working yet still unable to get the words out. But he had to get them out anyway, and damn the fact that this was only going to destroy him more than doing anything else to Sam. “Then we just do our job. And our job is killing Abaddon. Not Crowley. Not when he can still be of use to us.”

  And without looking at Sam, Dean stepped over the traffic barrier, keeping the tears streaking his face hidden as he got back into the driver’s seat. That’s when he succumbed, and wiped them away quickly, under the pretense of rubbing a tired hand all over his face as Sam chose to look at him through the windshield. Shock was emanating from the alpha, so much so that Dean could sense it from all the way to the car.

  Dean paid none of it any heed.

oOo

  The car ride back home was terse, silent, and definitely uncomfortable, with all the different scents Sam was letting it out. The jerk wasn’t even bothering to reign it in, and frankly, Dean was starting to get a headache from it all. 

  So by the time they finally reached the bunker, Dean was practically ready to kiss the garage floor when he parked the car inside.

  Taking a moment to relax his grip from the steering wheel, he spared a moment to acknowledge the cramp, flexing his fingers even as he started to get out of the car, only to be halted by a hand on his arm, right above the Mark. 

  With a sharp inhale, Dean spun his head around, his eyes sharp as he stared at his brother… only to soften his gaze when he realized how unsure Sam looked. The alpha wasn’t even meeting his eyes, and now that Dean was paying attention to it, he realized that not only was Sam’s hold completely and utterly gentle on his arm, practically a soothing touch to the aching flesh underneath several layers of clothes, but that the car was practically cleared up of Sam’s silent outburst. 

  Dean took a grateful inhale of the cleaner air, but he still didn’t talk. 

  Sam swallowed.

  “You should have come to me.” He said, and for a moment, his fingers tightened on Dean’s arms, to the point of almost being painful. But only for the brief moment. 

  Dean pointedly glanced down at Sam’s fingers on his arm anyway. 

  With visible reluctancy, Sam slowly let go, his fingertips grazing over Dean’s sleeve before his hand completely withdrew. 

  Dean looked back up, eyebrows already skyrocketing to his hairline. He didn’t have to ask Sam what he meant to know what he was talking about. “Do you really think that would have gone well, Sammy?” Dean asked, voice quiet.

  Sam exhaled. “I know--I know I said that we can’t-- _ I  _ can’t trust you after that stunt you pulled, Dean, you gotta understand that--”

  And yeah, Dean had already had enough. He started to turn around, even going so far as to opening the car door, but then Sam’s hand latched onto his arm, forcefully making him sit again. 

  Growling low in his throat instinctively, Dean whipped around, his face murderous as he stared down at Sam, but Sam wasn’t fazed.

  “But that doesn’t mean I’m a monster, Dean.” Sam said, his voice as firm as the grip on his arm. 

  And then his face softened just as much as his grip did too. 

  Dean shivered as Sam slowly dragged his hand up Dean’s arm. 

  “You know that I know how hard it is for a mated omega to go through a heat without their mate.” Sam whispered, his hand now cradling Dean’s jaw. He wasn’t exactly sure when, but he was aware now that his eyes were closed, even as he leaned into Sam’s touch. It had been so long, the omega within him was practically purring with warmth at the physical contact, after having been deprived for so long. “If you had told me then…” His thumb grazed over Dean’s bottom lip, and with a gasp, Dean’s lips parted, granting Sam’s finger entry.

  “I would have taken care of my omega, exactly how he should be taken care of.” Sam was practically breathing against Dean’s mouth, and when he finished talking, he finally closed the gap between them.

  Dean’s eyes flew open at the first touch of their lips, the sensations practically foreign at this point. But just as quickly as they opened, they were closing again as he let himself give into his alpha’s hold.

  As Sam relearned his way around Dean’s lips, Dean found himself getting lost in the warmth, leaning backwards as Sam pushed him gently, until they were both flat on the bench. Distantly, he could hear Sam opening his own car door, giving them more leg space ‘cause apparently, they were doing this in the car now. 

  Dean couldn’t bring himself to care about that, not when his alpha was finally touching him, after so long… Damn right was Dean going to take everything and anything he could get. 

  Dean moaned as he was finally able to touch his mate from head to toe, and even though their clothes created a barrier between their skin that Dean oh so desperately wished could meet, he still found himself arching up to meet Sam’s touches. Sam wasn’t doing anything to hinder Dean’s needs either, letting his hands flutter around, cradling Dean’s face at one moment, slipping up under his shirt and stroking his heated skin the next.

  Dean let out a hiss as Sam tweaked a nipple, which turned into a small groan when he abruptly realized he was leaking slick. 

  Sam froze.

  With a sinking feeling in his gut, Dean could only watch with helpless eyes as Sam slowly raised himself up from Dean’s body, staring down at his crotch, as if he could already see Dean’s slick leaking through the fabric. 

  Dean’s cheeks burned.

  He was just about to close his eyes and start willing himself to disappear, when he heard Sam let out a growl, and then Dean was yelping as Sam’s mouth closed around his bulge through his pants. 

  Dean threw his head back, a hiss escaping his mouth only to turn into a groan as his hands flew to Sam’s head, getting a good grip of his alpha’s long hair. Sam hummed approvingly, his head moving gently as he made space for his fingers to creep in. He unbuckled Dean’s pants, but very agonizingly slowly, much to Dean’s growing annoyance. 

  But when Sam’s fingers met with Dean’s absolutely wet hole, he was definitely starting to sing a different tune by then. 

  Sam didn’t even have to prepare Dean. For all that it had been  _ months  _ since they’d last done this, Dean was wet enough for Sam to put two fingers in from the get-go, only for Sam to pull out after a couple of thrusts and return with three fingers.

  Dean sighed, his back continuously arching under his brother. 

  Sam bent his head down again, and this time, he was lapping at Dean’s cock hungrily, the little tongue flicks at Dean’s head making Dean thrash about in their already cramped space, his legs wrapped tight around Sam.

  All it took was for Sam to graze his fingers against Dean’s prostate for the omega to come with a shout, curling inwards as he gushed all over Sam’s hand. 

  He slumped back against the bench with a heavy exhale, his eyes drifting closed. Feeling Sam holding himself back up above Dean. Automatically letting his legs fall wide open, one practically over the back of the bench and the other falling to the footwell, Dean bared himself to Sam, submissive. 

  With a low growl, Sam’s head dropped as he jerked himself off with furious movements, and came soon afterwards, spilling all over Dean’s front, soiling his shirt and jeans. At the sensation of Sam’s come hitting his throat, Dean stretched himself even further, letting Sam mark Dean as his own all over his skin.

  Sam collapsed onto Dean, breathing heavily as he tucked his nose under Dean’s chin, absently lapping at the come pooling there even as his cock continued to pulse from where it was rubbing against Dean’s.

  Dean swallowed. For a while, the only sound that filled the space between them was their heavy breathing. Opening his eyes, Dean stared at the roof of his car, debating on saying something, when Sam broke the silence for him anyway.

  “I can’t…” Sam paused, inhaling sharply. He took a moment to nuzzle Dean’s jaw, and then sighed before going on. “What you did… I can’t forget that easily.”

  Dean’s stomach sank. “I know, Sam.” He said to the roof.

  But Sam shook his head, his hair brushing Dean’s cheek. He pressed a palm against the flat of Dean’s stomach. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to abandon you.” He pressed a kiss to the underside of Dean’s jaw. “You have to understand that. Just because I’m mad doesn’t mean I’m going to let you torture yourself. Understand?”

  And though the hint of alpha that crept into Sam’s words called out for his omega to instantly submit and obey, Dean couldn’t help but grit the feeling down as he lied.

  “I gotcha, Sammy.”


End file.
